


Son of Men

by Jackdaw816



Series: Ilium [2]
Category: Torchwood
Genre: Backstory, Fluff and Angst, Kid Fic, M/M, Mpreg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-29
Updated: 2020-07-29
Packaged: 2021-03-06 05:42:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,128
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25528393
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jackdaw816/pseuds/Jackdaw816
Summary: It was bound to happen eventually
Relationships: Jack Harkness/John Hart, Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Series: Ilium [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1849630
Comments: 16
Kudos: 16





	Son of Men

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to EpiKatt for commenting and giving me the motivation to write about this in full! Makes me feel much better writing stuff about John when I know at least one other person will read it
> 
> This expands upon the kid mentioned in the first part of this series, And That's Just How It Is. You don't need to read that to understand this or vice-versa. For comprehension's sake, ATJHII is set between the fourth and fifth scenes of this, right at the name change to John

“We’ve got a problem,” Valer said the second the door slid shut behind him. Javic looked up from the feed he was scrolling through and raised an eyebrow. He was back early from his trip down to medbay.

“We’ve got a problem?” Javic questioned, snapping his vortex manipulator shut. “As I recall, I told you not to piss off Soman-”

“I’m pregnant.” 

“Not funny, Val,” Javic said, turning away under the guise of straightening a pillow on their bed. He didn’t hear Valer’s footsteps and almost jumped at a hand on his shoulder.

“I’m not joking.” Valer sounded serious. Javic hated when he sounded serious; it was always bad news. The hand left his shoulder, and Javic turned around. Valer looked worried, but he couldn’t tell if it was about the pregnancy itself or Javic’s reaction.

“How?” Javic managed. He wasn’t sure exactly what he was asking, but Valer nodded anyway.

“The sensor picked it up when they were scanning my knee. I’m about three weeks along.” Javic glanced at Valer’s abdomen. Three weeks. They were in the 27th century then. But even though they were on assignment together, and there definitely were opportunities, Javic couldn’t be certain. 

“Is it-” he cut himself off. “I thought you were on birth control.” Valer looked offended.

“I am. And I didn’t miss an injection,” he said before Javic could ask. Javic didn’t doubt him; he was good with drugs. “Medtech said that I probably ate some fruit or something that interfered with it.” Valer spun the desk chair around and straddled it. “Either way, it’s too late now. Grats, you’re gonna be a father.” 

Javic swallowed hard. He knew this was likely to happen. Even with contraceptives, the chances were never zero, obviously. Funny though. He kinda thought he’d be the one getting pregnant. He felt a rush of relief and then a wave of guilt.

“Are you sure it’s mine?” Valer made a so-so gesture.

“Didn’t check, but you’re the only one who fits the time frame. So, 90% sure.”

“That’s real comforting,” Javic said, then laughed shakily. Fifteen minutes ago, he was just trying to score some cheap hypervodka. Now, his partner’s pregnant and- 

“Are you keeping it?” Javic demanded. “Cause, if you’re keeping it, you’re gonna be out for half a year, minimum.” Valer flinched. “And that’s not to mention after, hell, Lana left because she couldn’t see her daughter enough, and our work is so dangerous, Val, what if you  _ die- _ ”

“Javic, calm down,” Valer said, getting out of his chair.

“We’re so young; I’m only twenty-one! How can we do this, how can I do this?” Valer crossed the room in two strides and wrapped Javic in his arms. Javic kept talking, mumbling into Valer’s shoulder. “I’m sorry, Val. I’m sorry I did this.”

“Don’t apologize,” Valer said sharply, holding Javic tighter. “This was the result of a team effort and could have just as easily been reversed.” Valer pulled back slightly but didn’t let go. “We can decide together. Whatever happens, I’m here for you. I love you.” Javic’s eyes went wide. Valer had never said that before.

“I-” 

Valer cut him off by pulling him into a kiss. Their kisses were always passionate, but this time, it was a softer passion. Amazing how a little bundle of cells not yet an embryo could change so much. Javic felt a pang in his heart. There was no way they could keep it.

* * *

Javic let himself into their quarters quietly. It was late, and he was sure Valer was already asleep. To his surprise, the lights were still on, and Valer was darting around the room, throwing stuff in a bag.

“Val? What’s going on?” Javic asked, blinking in the light. Valer’s head snapped up, and he froze. He was dressed in civvies, the cold-weather gear of his home. He pulled his coat around him, hiding the bump Javic knew was forming. 

“I thought you were down at the guardhouse till morning,” he said, slipping his laser knife into the bag. Javic crossed his arms.

“Traded shifts with Kile so that I could spend tomorrow with you.” Javic was met with a blank stare. “You do remember what tomorrow is?” He could see Valer thinking, then realize what he meant. For a second, his features were awash with joy, then he furrowed his brow and tempered his face.

“First day of my leave,” Valer replied scathingly, turning away to dig in a drawer.

“Already? But it’s only been a few months,” Javic said, crossing to Valer’s side. “You could stay here longer, get dispensation for light duty.”

“Doc said it was best if the majority of the gestation takes place on the correct planet,” Valer said. “And since I shouldn’t travel through the vortex, I need to take the shuttle tonight. Home’s a long way away.”

“I know we agreed to give the child away, but raised on your home planet? It’s a fucking ball of ice. Why not Boeshane, or a neutral third planet?” Javic argued. They had this argument before, but now was his last chance to win it.

“Oh sure, I’ll just abandon our newborn in a war zone, great plan, honey,” Valer said, slamming the drawer shut a little harder than necessary. Javic clenched his fists. Sure, Boeshane wasn’t perfect, but it wasn’t a war zone. Anymore. 

“Fine, not Boeshane,” Javic said as Valer grabbed his bag and disappeared into the bathroom. “But pick a safer world, like one of the central planets. They’re a lot closer and under Agency jurisdiction to boot.” 

Valer popped back around the corner, brandishing a razor semi-threateningly. “I don’t want this child to have anything to do with the Agency. They will be raised on my home planet in my tradition if I can’t raise them myself.” Javic flinched.

“I thought you didn’t want kids.” That’s why the decision had been simple. Neither of them had wanted to sacrifice their career for a child. But Valer hadn’t wanted to terminate, and Javic had respected his wishes. The Agency was good with pregnancy leave as long as the children were linear.

“I don’t. Hormones are fucking with my head.” Valer swore under his breath and went back to the bathroom. Javic sighed. He thought this would be further away; he thought he’d get a couple more months before Valer had to leave. 

But now he had over six months of temporary partners and unfamiliar bedmates ahead of him. A few years ago, the thought would have excited him. Now, he’s grown far too familiar. He would never tell Valer that. He’d only make fun. Valer came back out, bag now slung over his shoulder.

“Shuttle leaves in thirty,” Valer said, avoiding Javic’s eyes.

“Where are you going to stay? With your parents?” Javic asked. Valer shook his head.

“My sister. She’ll help me line up a good family for adoption.” Valer took in the expression on Javic’s face and smirked. “Will you miss me?”

“Yes,” Javic answered honestly. Valer came closer and wrapped his arms around Javic’s waist.

“How sweet,” Valer said, still smirking. But his tone betrayed his adoration. “Don’t forget to have fun while I’m gone. And try not to get killed either.” He took Javic’s hand and gently laid it on his stomach. “I would like you to meet them, at least once.” Javic tried to pull his hand away, but Valer held it fast.

“I don’t know if I should,” Javic hedged. A part of him was certain that if he saw their child, he would never be able to let them go. But Valer was giving him the look that he couldn’t resist, the one that would make him move mountains for his partner.

“Please?” Valer asked, so soft Javic almost missed it. Valer never truly asked for anything. He had other ways of getting what he wanted. “I’ll let you know when they’re born, just, come see us?” Javic swore he could feel the fetus move under his palm. It couldn’t be; it was still too early. But it was enough to seal his decision.

“Yes,” Javic said, really hoping he wouldn’t regret it. Valer beamed and kissed him hard. A light chime issued from Valer’s vortex manipulator, and he checked it. 

“Shit, I have to go  _ now _ .” Valer kissed him again, quickly, then was out the door before Javic could tell him to wait a second. Javic sighed heavily. He crossed the room to the unused bed and reached under it for the box he’d stashed under it last week. He pulled it out and opened it to reveal it was empty except for a note.

“What the-” Javic muttered. No one else had access to their quarters, so it must have been Valer. His suspicions were confirmed when he unfolded the paper to reveal Valer’s messy hand.

_ Happy anniversary, Javic. Thanks for the boots. Check the bottom of the third drawer in my dresser for your gift. I’ll see you in ~6 months. Love you. _

Javic couldn’t help but laugh.

* * *

Javic got lost almost the second he set foot in Legion. Of course, Valer  _ had _ to live in the biggest city on Katol. Legion was domed to protect it from the freezing winds and rains that ravaged the planet. He looked skyward and shivered.

After about twenty minutes of trudging aimlessly, Javic finally stumbled upon the borough Valer had directed him to. It took him fifteen more minutes to find the right house, even with Valer’s VM signal to help guide him.

At first glance, the house looked just like every other. Sleek, metallic, and boxy. But as he walked up the path, he noticed the perfectly-tended garden, and the hoverbike chained against the wall. The stone steps were chipped and worn and a pot next to the door contained a single sprig of a silvery weed. Javic pressed the buzzer, and a chime sounded.

The door opened to reveal a woman almost as tall as Javic. Her eyes were the same gray-blue as Valer, and a teardrop ruby rested in the hollow of her throat. She arched a regal eyebrow.

“Can I help you?” Javic tried not to flinch under her gaze.

“I’m looking for Valer?” he asked uncertainly. Her eyes lit up.

“Oh, you must be the father! Javic, right?” He nodded and the woman grabbed him by the hand and pulled him inside. “Come in, come in, you’re good as family if Val likes you.” Five minutes later, Javic found himself on a sofa with a cup of tea and the woman beaming at him from an armchair.

“So, uh-“ Javic started, then realized he didn’t know her name. He took a sip of tea instead. Despite the steam rising up from the cup, the drink chilled him to his bones. He didn’t recognize the taste either, probably something native to Katol. He shook his head lightly. “You’re Valer’s sister?” She nodded, then gasped lightly, raising a hand to her mouth.

“I’m so sorry; I didn’t introduce myself. I’m Astoria, Valer’s older, only, and best sister.” She smirked and Javic could clearly see the family resemblance.

“I’m Javic, Valer’s partner and well, you know,” Javic reintroduced himself. Astoria nodded knowingly. 

“Val showed me a holo, but I didn’t realize you were so…’’ she trailed off and Javic grinned.

“Handsome? It’s the jawline,” he teased. Astoria shook her head.

“Young,” she said. Javic stiffened and sat up straighter. He was a fully-fledged Time Agent, and he was sick and tired of people underestimating him because of his age. “I guess the holo really does add five years. I thought you were Val’s age. But you’re what, twenty?”

“Twenty-two,” Javic said tersely. “I don’t see why it matters.” He set the teacup down with a solid clink.

“As long as you know what you’re doing, then no, it doesn’t matter,” Astoria said, her voice cold and serious. “You’re a Time Agent, so I trust that you’re smart enough to get out if you need to.” Javic nodded nervously, and Astoria beamed. “Not that I’m worried about Valer. He’s a bit of a bastard sometimes, but he really loves you. I can see it.” 

“So he talked about me?’ Javic asked, curious about just what Valer had told his sister. Astoria nodded.

“It’s not like I could just let him waltz in pregnant without getting  _ any _ information about the father. He told me that you’d been partners for a few years and that you were from Boeshane, you poor thing.” Javic bristled, but Astoria either didn’t notice or didn’t care. 

“He didn’t say much about how he felt, but I know my brother. He can be fiercely loyal to those he loves and he’s chosen you.” She stood abruptly, towering over him, and her voice grew cold. “I suggest you don’t screw it up.” She scooped up the teacups and walked toward what Javic assumed was the kitchen. “Wait here, I’ll let him know you’ve arrived.” 

The second she was out of sight, Javic sighed. That was definitely Valer’s sister, all charm and condescension. Valer wore it much better. He briefly wondered if they’d learned it from their planet or from their parents. Either way, Javic was glad he wouldn’t be sticking around much longer.

He took the opportunity to look around the room. It was a lot like the exterior of the house, sleek and impersonal. There weren’t any warm colors in the art or the furniture, leaving the room feeling as cold as the planet. Maybe, Javic mused, that was why Valer loved the bright red of their formal uniforms; why Astoria wore a ruby instead of a sapphire. In such a frozen world, fire shone brighter than ice.

Javic heard footsteps approaching the room, and his head snapped toward the door. He stood up as the door opened, and Valer walked in. There were dark circles under his eyes, but he was grinning broadly. Astoria stood behind him, a child swaddled in her arms - his child.

Javic forced his attention back on his partner who was walking toward him. Javic met him halfway and kissed him soundly. Valer’s arms wrapped around him, and he relaxed. God, he’d missed this. Astoria laughed as they broke apart, and Javic felt a blush rise on his cheeks.

“Shut up, Tori,” Valer snapped, turning around to glare at her. “Help me to the couch?” The question was directed at Javic, who noticed Valer’s trembling legs. He nodded and wrapped a gentle arm around Valer’s waist. He was tempted to crack a joke, but he got the feeling that Valer would crack a bone in return.

“How long’s it been?” Javic asked once Valer was settled. “I mean, I know how long it’s been since I’ve seen you, I mean-“

“They’re a week old,” Valer said, gently cutting off Javic’s rambling. “And I feel like I haven’t slept since they were born.  _ Never _ doing this again. I don’t know where I’d be if it wasn’t for Tori.”

“In a much sorrier state then you are now,” Astoria said cheerfully. Valer made a gesture that Javic didn’t recognize but knew the meaning of anyway.

“Give me my kid and get out.” His words were harsh, but his tone was teasing. Astoria passed him the bundle.

“Fine. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.” She winked and booked it out of the room. Valer swore in a language Javic didn’t know then sighed heavily.

“Be glad you don’t have siblings.” Javic flinched, but Valer didn’t notice. He was gazing downward, his face unsettlingly neutral. “I love her, but she’s a fucking pain.”

“She’s a lot like you,” Javic said. Valer looked offended for a moment, and Javic grinned dopily. “Terrifyingly brilliant. And actually terrifying.” 

“I’m going to take that as a compliment.” Valer shifted the bundle in his arms, then offered it to Javic. “You wanna hold ‘em?” Javic froze. This trip was about the child, always had been, but now that the moment was here...

“Maybe I shouldn’t-” 

Valer rolled his eyes and pushed the kid into Javic’s arms. He instinctively moved his hands to better support them, but they were so small, there wasn’t much to support. Javic avoided looking down, choosing instead to glare at Valer.

“They’re so small. Were they premature?” Javic asked, running the timeline in his head. Valer shook his head, gazing at them both fondly.

“They took after me.” Valer wasn’t really that small, but in the Agency, the size of everything counted. “And the doc said they’d lose weight and regain it in the first two weeks. This is as small as they’ll get. They look adorable in your hands, Jav.” Javic finally looked down. They were adorable, peacefully asleep, although he suspected not for long.

“Have you named them?” Javic asked, noticing the thatch of brown hair lighter than either of theirs. 

“Well, sort of,” Valer said. Javic raised an eyebrow. “It’s traditional to name them on the seventh day, but that doesn’t mean that you can’t talk about names earlier. I struck a deal with the adoptive parents. They choose the first name; we get to pick the middle.” Fair enough, Javic supposed.

“What did they choose then?”

“Jayar,” Valer said lightly. “It’s a fairly common name here. It means ‘peaceful one,’” Javic smiled down at his child.

“Hello, Jayar.” They didn’t stir, but Javic felt his heart melting. Oh no. “Here, take them back,” Javic said, passing them over quickly. Thankfully, Valer didn’t complain, just took them, hands steady and careful.

“So, do you have a name in mind? Or shall we squabble over my choices?” Valer asked, smirking.

“I was thinking Ilium,” Javic said. Valer’s smirk faltered.

“Oh, you’re serious?” Valer asked. Javic nodded. “You want to name our child after a bone?” 

“No, not the bone,” Javic sighed. “The Old Earth city, but more importantly, a colony planet in the 27th century.” It took just a second for the reference to click.

“Oh, wow, that’s worse,” Valer said, struggling to hold back laughter. “You wanna name this kid after their place of conception, yikes.”

“Well, what was your idea?” Javic said, crossing his arms. The faintest hint of a blush rose on Valer’s face.

“Stan.” There was a beat or two of silence, both men locking eyes. Then Valer looked away. “Okay, fine, we’ll call them Ilium. It’s not like they’ll know the significance behind it.”

“When will you...” Javic started, then changed his mind. “When will you be back?”

“About a month or so. Doc has to clear me first, make sure I can work without tearing this incision right back open,” Valer said. “And to answer your other question, three days.”

“Will you miss them?” Javic asked quietly. Valer pondered the question silently, stroking a finger through Jayar’s hair.

“I don’t know. But I do know that we made the right choice.” He stood abruptly, and Javic followed suit. “I don’t think I would make a good father anyway.” Javic didn’t dispute it, just leaned in and kissed Valer on the forehead.

“I should go. I didn’t take long off.” Valer nodded. “I’ve got a good mission earmarked for when you come back. Simple retrieval of some stolen temporal tech, shouldn’t be more than two weeks. It’ll be like a vacation.” 

Valer grinned and leaned in to kiss Javic properly. “I’ll hold you to it.” 

Javic made it to the doorway and looked back over his shoulder. Valer waved goodbye as Jayar stirred in his arms. It was the last time Javic would ever see his child.

* * *

It was fifteen years before he saw his child again. He was no longer Valer Bastian, hadn’t been since he left the Agency. He was going by Silas Flint at the time, another in a long line of meaningless aliases. 

He had returned home to pay his respects to his late mother. His mum had died when he was still a teenager, and his mother had never quite been the same after, not as kind or thoughtful. Actually, she was a right bitch. He wasn’t going to go at all, except Astoria had called him and given him a verbal whipping that guilted him home. 

After the service, Silas walked back to his hotel, boots beating out a tattoo on the sidewalk. (They were the same pair Javic had given him back then, the leather well cared for. He really did love those boots. Yeah. The boots.) He still knew the city well, even all those years later. Legion was a maze to non-natives, but Silas loved it.

Silas turned from a side street onto a bustling thoroughfare. Surrounded by people and aliens alike, he almost didn’t notice the hand lifting his credit chip. Almost. Without more than a glance, he reached out and caught the thief’s wrist. He dragged them along, out of the crowd and into an alley.

“Hey, let go!” the thief demanded. Silas threw them up against the wall, knocking the credit chip from their hand. The light was dim, but Silas could clearly see that the pickpocket was human, and a kid, couldn’t be more than sixteen.

“You picked the wrong guy to pickpocket,” Silas snapped, hand going to his gun. He didn’t intend to use it, but he saw the kid’s eyes rake over his guns and his sword. He looked scared, but despite his fear, the kid stood his ground.

“That’s what you get for wearing such a gaudy jacket. What are you, an off-worlder?” Silas resisted the urge to slam the kid into the wall again. Instead, he bent to pick up his credit chip.

“Born and raised in Legion, kiddo,” Silas said, tone cold. The kid bristled.

“I’m not a kid; I’m fifteen.” 

Silas laughed. “I hate to break it to you, that’s a kid. Now, run home to your parents, and stop playing criminal.” He grinned sharply. “That’s more my speed.”

“My parents are dead,” the kid said. Normally, that wouldn’t have bothered him, but tonight, he flinched.

“So?” Silas asked, trying to sound nonchalant. “The system is good; they’ll get you a guardian if not full-on new parents.”

“They were my adoptive parents,” the kid said, voice breaking slightly. “They were really good to me, but they went outside the dome for the solstice, and their skiff broke down and they froze to death and now I’m alone. No other relatives.” To Silas’ horror, he actually felt touched by the kid’s sob story. He didn’t seem to be lying.

“Still. Go to the system. They’ll place you with someone, or even look up your bio parents if you want,” Silas said, trying to calculate the fastest way to get out of this conversation.

“I tried. They said that the adoption was closed and that I can’t get the records opened ever. Time Agency intervention apparently. Those fuckers.” The kid kicked a trash can angrily, the echo ringing in the confined space.

“Language,” Silas scolded absentmindedly, although he agreed with the sentiment. His mind was racing now; everything was too much of a coincidence. He tried to get a better look at the kid, but it was still too dim. But he had to know. “What’s your name?”

“Why do you want to know?” the kid asked suspiciously. Good for him. Silas held up his extra credit chip.

“Answer my questions and I’ll give you this.” Even in the dim, Silas could see the kid’s eyes light up.

“Jayar. Jayar Curhan.” Silas felt the world shift under his feet. This was his child, his  _ son _ , he had to be. He’d entrusted baby Jayar to the Curhans a little over fifteen years ago. He didn’t realize they were idiots at the time, but too late now. Sweet goddesses, this was  _ Ilium.  _ And he would  _ never _ tell him that. Too much trouble.

“When did your parents die?” Silas asked, a little too quickly. Ilium shrugged. 

“Last summer solstice. So, a little over a year. I’ve been crashing with friends and stuff, so don’t throw a fit like all the other adults did.” All the other adults were right, Silas resisted the urge to say.

“You’ve been on your own this whole time?” Silas asked softly. “No guardians, no permanent place?” Ilium shrugged again.

“No. But I don’t need one. I’ve got a job doing part-time clerical work in Central. Pays well enough that I can support myself while finishing school,” Ilium said, shifting uncomfortably under Silas’ gaze. He was impressed by Ilium’s ingenuity, but he wouldn’t need it if not for his fucking horrible circumstances.

“What about after school? What do you want to do with your life?” Ilium shot him a disbelieving look that reminded him oh so much of Javic.

“Why do you care? I fucking robbed you, and you’re what, giving me career advice? I didn’t take you for a bleeding heart.” Oh, Ilium was as much a bastard as he was. Touching.

“You failed at robbing me,” Silas reminded him. “And honestly, if you weren’t from Legion, I wouldn’t have given you a second look. But you are, and I have, so, shut up and tell me your ambitions.” Ilium leaned back against the wall, wary, but almost hopeful. 

“I don’t really have any. When I was younger, I wanted to be a Time Agent. Every kid did. But I thought I had an in because my parents told me that my birth parents were Time Agents.”

“Hate to break it to you, kid, but despite all the dubious shit the Time Agency was fond of, nepotism wasn’t one. Everyone has to get in on their own merit.” Silas laughed. “The one thing they did right, and it’s the part I used to hate the most.” Ilium eyed him warily.

“You’re a Time Agent?” Silas held up his right arm. 

“Former, but I went rogue, so I got to keep the fancy tech.” He spotted Ilium’s eyes greedily watching his wrist. “And no, I won’t use it to get your parents back or any shit like that, that’s a paradox in the making. And if you try to take it, I will break your neck, kid or not.” 

“Fine. I don’t want to be a Time Agent anymore anyway,” Ilium said, crossing his arms stubbornly.

“Good, ‘cause you can’t. Agency’s falling apart. There are only a few dozen of us left, and I suspect it’ll be gone in three years.” Silas shook his head and avoided Ilium’s curious look. “Anyway, ignore me. So, you don’t want to be a Time Agent. What excited you about it? The danger, the glamor, or was it just all about your parents?” 

Ilium smirked, and it was like looking into a mirror. “I heard it was a rush. Dangerous work, but you got to see all of time and space.” 

Silas nodded. “The danger level varied, but every active agent saw their fair share of the universe.” He raised an eyebrow. “So you want to travel? Get out of Legion, or get out of Katol all together?”

“The latter,” Ilium said excitedly. “I mean, I love Katol and Legion, but it’s so cold. My parents must have been off-worlders if their genetics left me like this.” Silas swore internally. Javic’s sun-loving genes ruined Katol for their son, brilliant.

“So, do you want legality or excitement? I’ve got contacts for both that will get you off this rock for as long as you like,” Silas said, running the list through his head.

“You can’t have both legality and excitement?” Ilium asked. Silas just shot him a look. “Fine, fine. Excitement then. The goddesses know I’ve broken enough laws already.” Silas grinned. Now that was his son.

“Alright. With a little more training, you could be a brilliant pickpocket,” Silas said, tossing the credit chip at Ilium. He caught it one-handed and stashed it in an internal pocket of his coat. “You almost got me. And I’m good.” Ilium shot him a look.

“So you’re saying what? You’re gonna take me off-world and train me?” 

Silas laughed. Goddesses no. He worked alone now; he was the only person he could trust not to betray him.

But there was a part of him that wanted to say yes, show his son the glitter of the galaxy. He missed having someone to run cons with; Illium could even be an apprentice of sorts. Possible futures stretched out before him, time twisting and splintering in endless possibilities.

They live like kings and conquer as emperors // He’s murdered for his son’s ambition

Javic rejoins him, he loves him and their son // He watches his son die, helpless to stop it

He goes legit, together, they save innocents // Power corrupts in absolute, he makes a monster

He’s happy // He’s betrayed

“No,” Silas said sharply. He shook his head hard and refocused on Illium. “No, I work alone.” He dug in his jacket for a pen. “But I can send you to someone who will. Give me your hand.” Reluctantly, Illium stuck out his arm, and Silas scrawled an address in black ink.

“Who?” Ilium asked, squinting to read the writing. 

“Go there, ask for Kenzo. Tell them that I sent you, tell them I’m cashing in my favor. They’ll take care of you.” Silas felt a twinge of regret, then squashed it. 

“Sure, I’ll say that the red-jacketed guy I mugged sent me.” Ilium stepped closer, almost into the light. “I need a name.” Silas hesitated. Kenzo knew him by several, but which did he want to give?

“Valer. Tell her Valer sent you.” There was no flash of recognition in Ilium’s eyes, no gasp of realization. Silas berated himself for even considering it. Instead, he nodded curtly.

“Alright.” Ilium turned to leave, then paused. “Why are you doing this?”  _ Because you’re my son. Because you’re a reminder of the only man I truly love. Because I’m getting sentimental in my old age. _

“I don’t know,” Silas admitted. Ilium stepped into the light, and Silas stifled a gasp. He had Javic’s eyes, blue as the sea and just as deep. He looked away. “Just go. Have a good life.” Illium threw up a lazy salute.

“Whatever you say,” he quipped before running off. Silas watched him go, then swore loudly as soon as he was out of earshot.

“You’re a fucking fool, you idiotic, sentimental bastard,” Silas spat, slamming his fist against the wall. It was too close for comfort, and completely out of character. He needed a stiff drink. Or to kill something. Preferably both.

He shook out his hand, then flipped open his vortex manipulator. He needed to get out of Katol. But where to go? Unbidden, a memory from years ago surfaced. Something Javic had told him in that hell of a time loop.

“The most horrible creatures you could possibly imagine,” Silas murmured. Something he could kill, and possibly a way back into Javic’s favor. This he could work with.

* * *

John Hart left Earth after his last conversation with the man now called Jack Harkness. He headed back to the stars, back home to his time. Sort of. He was about eight years ahead of his personal timeline. He had a wedding to crash, Ilium’s wedding.

To his surprise, the wedding wasn’t being held in Legion or on Katol at all. He found himself on Orin, a beautiful planet home to thick forests and sweeping velds. The ceremony was located on a large pavilion in the center of a city built into the trees. The populace appeared mostly humanoid, but they had insect-like wings sprouting from their shoulder blades.

John warped in on an adjoining platform, and almost landed on a local. The woman swore lightly, stumbling out of the way. Luckily, her royal purple dress was short enough that the hem didn’t catch under his foot.

“Watch where you step!” she snapped, iridescent wings fluttering up in anger.

“My apologies,” John said, switching on his most charming smile. She calmed down almost instantly, her wings folding back, and offered a smile of her own. “I’ve never been to Orin before, and I was distracted by the beauty of your city.” He allowed his gaze to rake lavishly over her. “And that of your people.”

“Such a charmer,” she teased before offering him her hand. “Welcome to Orin, mister?”

“Hart. But you can call me John,” he said, taking her hand and kissing it. He was delighted to discover that Orinians blushed green. 

“I’m Lissa. I’m the bride’s sister.” She shot him a sideways glance. “You are here for the wedding, right?”

“Depends. Can you keep a secret?” John asked, tone walking the line between teasing and genuine. Lissa shrugged.

“As long as it’s not going to ruin the wedding, sure. I’ll never see you again anyway.” John grinned. Oh, he liked her. 

“I am here for the wedding. I’m a relative of the groom,” John said, glancing around. Lissa frowned.

“I thought Jayar was an orphan. My sis told me he had only invited friends,” she said. 

“He is. Sort of.” John’s brow furrowed. One of his fathers was immortal now, something John was glad he would never know. He didn’t need to bear that kind of weight. John shook his head, then beckoned for her to lean in. “Don’t tell him, but I’m his father,” he whispered low. Lissa jumped back quickly, face pale with shock.

“You’re not dead?” Lissa hissed. John sighed.

“I never was. I’m his biological father; my partner and I gave him up when he was born.” Color leached back into her face, and she punched him in the shoulder.

“Next time, clarify, so I don’t think I’m talking to a revenant,” Lissa said, crossing her arms.

“Dead men are horrible for conversation, trust me,” John said bitterly, rubbing at his arm. But now Lissa was looking at him curiously.

“If you gave him up, why are you here?” 

John smiled sadly. “My partner died recently.” True if by recently you meant thousands of years in the past and by died you meant murdered and revived. “And I’ve been keeping a vague eye on Ilium, making sure he’s happy and all. So I thought I’d come to the wedding. He’s the last piece I have of his father; he was our only child.” John was surprised at how little of an act the sympathy act was. Lissa nodded in agreement.

“I understand. But why did you call him Ilium?” Lissa asked. John rewound his words in his head and flinched. He had slipped up.

“That’s his middle name, the name my partner and I gave him. It’s the name I always called him,” John said, tone shaking almost imperceptibly.

“Do you regret it?” Lissa asked lightly. John shook his head.

“It was the right decision. Doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt.” Pushing feelings aside, he smiled charmingly again. “Now’s not the time to dwell.” He offered Lissa his arm. “Shall we go in?” Sighing, Lissa took it.

“Alright. I can give you the lowdown on Orinian wedding customs,” she said as she led him across a narrow bridge and out to the main pavilion.

“That would be lovely,” John said, then smirked. He wasn’t running a con, didn’t need to do the research. But it didn’t hurt to know. 

As they approached the pavilion, John noticed the raised dais in the center. There was a table upon it, draped in garlands of a purple flower he didn’t recognize. There were a couple of other things, but his eyes went directly to the pair of ornate silver daggers. Now, those were familiar.

“Jayar and Raira decided to fuse their wedding styles so they could both have their traditions,” Lissa said, noticing his gaze. “But I’m afraid I don’t know much about his Katolan practices.”

“I do.” Lissa led him over to a small table near the center. There were two paths marked by thick leaves, and John suspected that the bride and groom would enter from different sides and meet in the center. “I’m glad he chose to preserve our culture.”

“I’ve only met him once, but he seems like a good guy. He’s absolutely enamored with Raira. Would do anything for her,” Lissa said, taking a seat and gesturing for John to do the same.

“I know the feeling,” John said, looking around the room. The majority of the wedding-goers were Orinian like Lissa and wore elegant open-backed clothing in an assortment of styles. There were a lot of greens and purples, so the crowd en masse looked like a living tapestry of the forest.

But there were others, non-natives, some indistinguishable from humans. They branched out a bit more with their colors, everything from canary yellow to navy blue. It helped John feel a little more invisible in his own formal outfit. The charcoal gray vest and dark red skirt were definitely not of Orinian or even Katolan design. 

“Oh, look,” Lissa said, drawing his attention back. She pointed discreetly at someone who had just entered across the pavilion. John leaned forward and squinted, trying to make them out.

“Is that a Tree of Cheem?” he asked, astounded. John had heard of the Forest of Cheem but had never actually seen one since they were fairly peaceful, and the Agency never sent him on diplomatic missions. Lissa nodded.

“That’s Heliconia. She was originally an ambassador but decided to stay permanently. She officiates most of the weddings here.” 

John watched as she moved gracefully through the crowd, greeting people cheerfully. Cheem-officiated wedding. Huh.

“Oh, I love that necklace!” Lissa said. John was confused for a second. Then he noticed that the teardrop he was wearing on a silver chain had slipped out from under his collar. He raised a hand to it protectively. “Is that a ruby?”

“Garnet. But it’s a common mistake,” John said shortly, tucking it back inside his dark shirt. It had been his sister’s, but it was more his style. 

“It matches your earring, I like it!” 

John lifted a hand to touch the stud in his left ear. It was both stylish and practical, the garnet fake, and containing a lethal dose of poison. He knew how to blend in but still feel comfortable and dangerous. He had traded his timeworn boots for a pair of strappy black heels, but he also had two knives and a pistol hidden inside his vest. 

“Lissa!” a voice called, and another Orinian rushed over to their table. She looked very similar to Lissa, probably a relative. Her eyes were blue though, not brown, and her dress was emerald green. “We need your help, we can’t find the rings!” Lissa didn’t panic, however, simply reached into a hidden pocket in her dress and removed two plain silver bands.

“Didn’t Raira tell you I have them?” Lissa asked, placing them gently in the other woman’s palm. She gave Lissa a scathing look, then dashed off without so much as a goodbye. Lissa sighed and turned back to John. “Sorry, that’s my other sister. She’s convinced that I’m trying to sabotage the wedding and make her look bad in front of Raira.”

“So is Raira the oldest then?” John asked, making the logical assumption. Juniors fighting for the attention of their elder. Fairly typical. But Lissa shook her head. 

“She’s the baby of the family. Only twenty-two. But Laris and I both love her, and we only want to see her safe and happy,” Lissa said, passion glowing in her eyes.

“I see,” John said, then changed the topic. “You still use rings on Orin? I know we don’t use them anymore on Katol.” 

Lissa nodded. “Yes. We wear them on the middle finger to symbolize balance.” Lissa said, holding up her hand and accidentally flipping John off. He stifled a chuckle. “Typically, they’re made of bronze, but Jayar asked for theirs to be made of silver. Do you know if that’s a personal thing or a cultural thing?”

“Cultural. Silver is the most highly valued metal on Katol.” He gestured vaguely toward the table on the dais. “Hence the ceremonial daggers being made of silver, rather than a stronger metal.”

“About those.” Lissa leaned in. “No one actually told me what they’re for.” 

“It’s fairly simple, but it’s a very important part of our binding ceremonies,” John said.

“A binding ceremony sounds so much more serious than a marriage one,” Lissa said with a nervous laugh. John nodded.

“It is. For legal purposes, they’re one and the same. But binding is deeper and you can’t go back. That’s why many couples choose only to marry and not to bind until later, or sometimes not at all.” John’s brow furrowed in confusion. “Binding at twenty-six. Risky. But honestly, it’s what I’d do.”

“So what’s the knife for?” Lissa asked, her voice a mixture of nervousness and awe. John reached in his vest and removed the smaller of his knives.

“This’ll do for demonstration purposes.” He set the knife on the table in front of him and rolled up his right shirt sleeve. “Binding can be performed with more than two, but we’ll keep to basics for now.”

“Alright,” Lissa said, watching the knife warily. 

“Both partners take a dagger,” John lifted his own knife, “and draw blood right here.” Lissa flinched as he lightly dragged the blade over the inside of his arm, at the very top of his forearm. It didn’t leave more than a light scratch. “Then they trade daggers.” John flipped his knife over to signify the swap. “And seal the wound with the other’s blood.” The metal was cold against his skin. “The scar is sacred and permanent. Removing it is a betrayal of the worst kind and a jailable offense.”

“This is common on your world?” Lissa asked, her face pale. John nodded as he tucked his knife back away. “...A tad barbaric for my tastes, I believe.” John shrugged.

“A relationship worth preserving is worth a little pain.” He rolled his sleeve back down, but not before Lissa glanced sadly at his unscarred arm. “So, what of Orin’s traditions?” Before Lissa could respond, a horn sounded, and the crowd hushed.

“You’ll see,” Lissa whispered. The Tree of Cheem, Heliconia, was standing on the dais, horn in hand. 

“Welcome, everyone!” Heliconia called, her voice somehow amplified to fill the space. “We are gathered here today to celebrate the union of Raira and Jayar.” She swept her hands elegantly to the sides and the curtains on both sides of the pavilion were swept open.

John forced himself to look at the bride first. She looked like a flower, literally. Her dress was designed to mimic those flowers garlanded on the dais. The bodice was green, and it cascaded into purple petals that swirled as she walked down the aisle. Her wings were open and held aloft regally. When she’d made it about halfway, John turned to look at Ilium.

“He really took after his father,” John murmured in shock. He wasn’t a dead ringer for Jack, but a little hair dye and a cocky grin would fool most people. He was wearing the traditional wedding/binding clothes of Katol, black pants and a navy blue halter-top. John always thought it looked like clubwear, but he could see the ceremonial purpose behind it.

As Ilium got closer, John noticed a scar through his left eyebrow. Now, there was definitely a story behind that. He also noticed more of himself than he thought. The hair color was the most obvious marker, but Ilium had also gotten John’s build. He was like a brunet miniature Jack with slightly better cheekbones. It was startling.

Both bride and groom stepped up on the dais. Heliconia was talking, but neither of them noticed, so enraptured by each other. It wasn’t until she picked up two golden chalices that everyone snapped back to attention.

“Imbibe of the nectar of the lia flower, in hopes for peace and prosperity,” Heliconia said, handing Raira and Ilium the chalices. They stepped closer together and crossed arms. Then they drank, taking just a sip of the nectar inside before stepping back. Heliconia reclaimed the chalices and smiled.

“Arah!” the crowd called in unison, startling John slightly. Lissa leaned over.

“It’s a blessing; they say it after each of the three parts of our ceremony,” she whispered. John nodded; okay, he wasn’t a religious guy, but it made sense.

“So, nectar, rings, and?” John whispered back, voice just as low. 

“Crowns.” Lissa sat back up as Heliconia spoke again.

“Accept the crowns of the lia flowers, in hopes for unity and purity.” 

John almost snorted. Purity, so old fashioned. The couple took the wreaths from Heliconia, smiling. Raira placed hers first, nestling it in Ilium’s spiky-soft hair. Then Ilium followed suit, the flowers laying perfectly on Raira’s braided crown.

The crowd cheered again. John didn’t join them. Lissa’s sister, Laris, if he remembered correctly, darted up on the dais and passed Heliconia the wedding bands.

“Bestow the rings upon each other, in hopes for balance and trust,” Heliconia said, offering a band to each. Raira took hers first. 

“I love you,” Raira said, her voice deep and melodious. “I remember when first I met you, Jay. You were lost, roaming the markets, and yet you said you felt completely at home. I called you a fool, and we kissed under a balik tree. I thought I’d never see you again, but you came back.” She smiled brightly, her wings rippling with color. “You once told me you were mine.” Raira took Ilium’s hand and slid the ring onto his middle finger. “I hope this ring tells you that I am yours.”

Ilium took the other ring from Heliconia, his hand shaking. John recognized the look in Ilium’s eyes as he gazed at Raira. That was the same way he used to look at Javic, the way he still looked at Jack. His son was in love, deep love. It suited him.

“I love you too.” Ilium said. “I was in a bad place when I first came to Orin. I’d made choices that I wasn’t proud of. But I saw no reason to stop. Then I met you, Raira. You gave me a reason. But you’re more than that. You’re the love of my life. I want to spend the rest of my life with you.” He slid the ring onto her finger, then kissed her hard.

The crowd went wild, and Lissa whistled. She glanced over at John and smirked.

“Are you crying?” 

John rubbed at his eye and thanked the goddesses he’d chosen to forgo makeup.

“My son just got married; of course, I’m crying,” John said. “I’m a bastard, but I’m not heartless.”

“Never said you were,” Lissa said with a smug grin, turning her attention back to the ceremony.

“Now, in accordance with the groom’s traditions, there will be an additional portion of the ceremony,” Heliconia announced to startled murmurs from the crowd. John simply leaned forward in his seat. He’d never actually seen a binding. 

Heliconia passed the couple the knives. Raira looked nervous, but not hesitant. Ilium raised the blade to his arm and cut first, wincing slightly. A few seconds later, Raira followed suit, her green blood the same shade as her dress. They traded knives.

“With this blade, I thee bind,” Illium said. The knife started to glow hot, and as Ilium pressed it into his skin, he swore he could smell flesh burning. The blade lifted to reveal the familiar binding scar, neat and permanent.

“With this blade, I thee bind,” Raira echoed, then sealed her own wound. She shouted with pain, and Lissa shot to her feet. John grabbed her wrist and pulled her back down.

“She’ll be fine. Don’t interrupt,” John snapped. Lissa shot him a scathing look but complied. Heliconia took the knives back, blades cooled and slicked with blood. She handed them strips of cloth to tie around the fresh scars, not a typical tradition, but an acceptable modification. John took a moment to wonder when he started to care so much about Katolan tradition. Maybe it was just a side effect of being away from home.

“I now present Raira and Jayar, husband and wife!” Heliconia called. The crowd erupted in cheers so loud John almost had to cover his ears. Lissa pulled John to his feet as the tables and chairs started to sink into the floor.

“C’mon, I want to go congratulate the couple before the reception starts,” Lissa said cheerily, dragging John along before he could protest. All he wanted was to leave before things got complicated. Maybe he’d take advantage of the open bar first.

“I really shouldn’t,” John said, but Lissa either didn’t hear him or didn’t care. They reached the dais in seconds, and Lissa instantly went to embrace her sister. John tried to play it natural, winking at Heliconia and kissing her hand. But then he turned to see Ilium staring directly at him.

“Have we met before?” Ilium asked, his tone polite, but his gaze sharp. John smiled innocently and resisted the urge to bail. That screamed guilt, and he would rather make a graceful exit. Ilium didn’t seem to link the rogue from a decade ago to the sharp-dressed man in front of him now, but if he was as observant as his father, it wouldn’t be long before he did.

“I don’t think so,” John lied. “I get that a lot.” Ilium nodded, apparently satisfied.

“What brings you to Orin?” he asked politely, making a discrete gesture at John’s lack of wings. Before John could lie and make an exit, Lissa sidled up beside him.

“I met him in town, and when he mentioned he’d come from Katol, I dragged him along to explain your customs,” Lissa explained, winking obviously at John. John shot her a glare in return. Ilium didn’t seem to notice, his face had lit up at the mention of Katol.

“Really? Most people have never even heard of it!” Ilium exclaimed. John smiled softly.

“Born and raised.” He glanced over Ilium’s shoulder and pretended to recognize something in the distance. “Excuse me, I have to-” He tried to pass by him, but Ilium laid a firm hand on his shoulder. John stiffened.

“I have seen you before!” Ilium said, eyes wide with shock. John shrugged his hand off.

“I don’t know what you mean,” John said sharply. Liss and Raira were watching them carefully, and John noticed other heads starting to turn. “Now I really have to-”

“Why haven’t you aged?” Ilium asked, voice low. “I saw you eleven years ago. And I may have been a teenager, but I’m good with faces. You’re not a decade older, maybe three years, max.”

“I’m leaving now,” John said, keeping his voice perfectly neutral. Oh god, he’d fucked up. But as long as Lissa kept her mouth shut, and he left without giving anything more away, maybe the universe wouldn’t implode. He turned around and started to walk away, pulling his bracer out of his vest.

“You sent me to Kenzo, and you ruined my life,” Ilium all but shouted. John flinched, hands freezing. “And now, I’ve finally put myself back together, and you show up again. Why do you hate me?” John turned around, vortex manipulator clearly visible in his hands.

“I could never hate you,” John said, struggling to keep his voice level. “And I’m sorry for any misfortune.”

“Who are you?” Ilium spat, glancing rapidly between his hands and his face. “What do you want?” John grinned, just the slightest quirk of his lips.

“You already know my name. And all I want is for you to be happy.” He raised his voice slightly. “Apologizes, all! Enjoy the festivities.” He pressed the final button and the glow started to form around him. “You won’t see me again. I’m sorry, Ilium.”

“Wait!” Ilium shouted, but John was gone.

* * *

It was night on Orin, but the bioluminescent vines that wove through the gravetrees lit John’s path well. He was sweating, but it wasn’t from the tropical heat. He’d been here before. But this time, he wasn’t going to be alone. He’d put out a signal that the Jack of this time couldn’t resist.

John found the right gravetree easily. It was a balik tree, the dark wood and purple leaves in stark contrast to the lighter, willow-like trees that populated the rest of the grove. It made John smile. Even in death, their son still managed to be the center of attention. He wouldn’t expect anything less.

He trailed his fingers over the trunk gingerly. He had to appreciate the ingenuity of the native Orinians. They cremated their dead, then buried the ashes along with a nano-infused sapling. The nanos mimicked bioluminescent moss which lit up under his touch, forming an epitaph in both Orinian and Katolan script.

Technically, Ilium hadn’t been buried beneath this tree. Despite spending the majority of his life, about sixty years, on Orin, his mortal remains were back on Katol. He’d been laid to rest in the Katolan tradition, his corpse sent beneath the ice to be devoured by sanwyrns. A final blessing that John knew he would never receive himself.

John sensed more than heard Jack’s arrival. He could feel the rent in time as Jack appeared, his vortex manipulator obviously repaired by the fifty-third century. John shrugged his shoulders, a final check to make sure every weapon and tool stored in his jacket was in place, then turned around.

Logically, John knew it had been about three thousand linear years for Jack. He had expected the gray at his temples, the extra lines in his face. What he hadn’t expected was how goddamn  _ tired  _ he looked, his eyes older than any being had the right to be. 

(If John knew his Old Earth mythology better, he would have compared Jack to the Titan Atlas. Solid and unchanging, carrying the weight of the sky on his shoulders and never being able to lay down his burden. A pillar of humanity, punished beyond his measure.)

“Hello, Jack,” John said, grinning a grin that he didn’t feel. He was happy to see Jack, but not like this. Jack’s face grew pale. “I don’t know if you still go by Jack, but it suits you.”

“Jack’s fine,” he stammered, some color leaching back into his face. “What are you doing here? It’s 5235; you’re not supposed to visit your future.”

“Third rule, right after don’t tell them you’re time travelers and god forbid you lose your manipulator, yadda yadda yadda.” John waved a hand dismissively. “This is just a quick visit; I don’t intend to search myself up. Though I may check the Galactic Lotto numbers-”

“John!” Jack snapped, and he shut up instantly. Jack’s tone of voice had been so familiar for something John was certain he’d never experienced. Add that to the look on Jack’s voice and the obvious time period, the dots connected easily.

“I’m dead,” John said bluntly. Jack didn’t move but for a twitch of the eyebrow. “Maybe you know for certain, maybe not. Either way, you can’t tell me.” Jack nodded. “I get it.” John took a couple of steps toward him. “I never intend to come to this time, or any later time, ever again. So, for you, this is the last time you get to see me.” Jack nodded again, his old eyes dark with sorrow.

“There’s so much I need, that I needed to say to you,” Jack said hesitantly. “But I don’t think I can.” He shrugged and smiled faintly. “No spoilers.”

“No spoilers,” John echoed sadly. He really wanted to know what Jack had to say. John had never stopped, and he had a feeling he would never stop loving this twisted, broken man.

He settled for what he could and closed the distance between them to pull Jack into a kiss. God, he’d always love kissing Jack, even this haggard and timeworn Jack. They broke apart, and Jack’s face was such a painful amalgam of bliss and sorrow, John had to look away.

“Age cannot wither her,” John quoted, smirking. Jack smirked back.

“Nor custom stale her infinite variety,” Jack finished. 

They stood for a second in memory-tinged silence before Jack pulled John into his arms, hugging him tightly. John made a noise, started, then quickly relaxed into Jack’s embrace. They’d never been a huggy couple, but John was loath to turn down anything Jack was willing to give him. Especially now with Jack viewing the end of their road.

Jack let him go after a moment or two, and John politely ignored him as he wiped at his eyes. Honestly, John was touched. He must have reconciled with Jack at some point to be getting this sort of grief-tinged affection.

“Sorry,” Jack rasped. 

“It’s fine,” John reassured. Jack looked around, then seemed to remember where he was. He shot John a questioning look and John grinned. “Yes, I called you here for a reason.” He stepped away from Jack and back toward Ilium’s family gravetree.

“And that is?” Jack asked, following after him. John ran his hand over the moss again, then stepped aside so Jack could read the glyphs.

“This planet is called Orin. It’s home to a beautiful race of human-adjacents. It was also the home of-”

“Jayar Ilium,” Jack breathed. John watched as his face flickered with memory. “Our child?” John nodded.

“Our son.” John laughed unbiddenly. “We’re not much of parents; we didn’t raise him, instill him with values, watch him grow up. But there were a few moments when he was ours. And that was enough.” He fell to his knees by the tree. “I think he was happy.”

“Jayar Ilium Curhan: 5096 - 5181,” Jack read. “He lived a long life.” John nodded.

“I saw him twice more after I gave him away,” John admitted. “I tried to send him on a good route when he was fifteen.” 

“And by a good route, you mean?” 

“He tried to rob me so I sent him to an apprenticeship at a thieves’ guild,” John admitted. Jack laughed, deep and honest.

“Now, that really is our son.” John smiled bitterly

“He’s better than me. Met Raira and went straight so he could marry her. I attended their wedding.” John laughed. “God, you should have seen them. Young, happy, and in love.”

“Raira Altair Kayal: 5100 - 5180. Only died a year before him.” Jack noted. “Was she from this planet?”

“Yeah. He got your love of ungodly heat so they chose to live here and build their family.” John sighed. “I never met their kids, our grandkids. Goddess, that’s weird.”

“You get used to it,” Jack said with a sigh. There was a moment of awkward silence before he spoke again. “Kore Noor Curhan: 5124 - 5190 and Nik Avni Kayal: 5126 - 5179.” 

“I bet their youngest was a flirt like you,” John said contemplatively. “Got the attention of anyone they wanted with nothing but a few words and a look.”

“You say that like you’re not just as big as a flirt,” Jack said with a chuckle. John, still on the ground, slapped Jack in the leg. “I bet their oldest liked animals. Kept a mouse in a shoebox for weeks as a kid until their parents found out and made them let it go.” John laughed.

“Speaking from experience?” he asked coyly. Jack rapped his knuckles lightly on John’s head.

“It’s a secret. But hypothetically, the mouse’s name was Stewart, and he was a pain in the ass,” Jack said with a straight face. John laughed even harder. He got to his feet and brushed the dirt off his trousers.

“I feel like I did something right with him,” John admitted. “Stepping back and letting go, it was the right choice. Whenever I did intervene, it just got worse. I’d be a dreadful father.” Jack sighed and slipped an arm around John’s shoulders

“I doubt it. I’ve had, well, I don’t want to say exactly how many children over the years, but… many. And I felt like I was going to be a horrible father with each and every one of them.” Jack grinned and tugged John a little closer. “Surprisingly, I wasn’t.”

“You were always good with kids,” John said dismissively, then sighed. “I don’t need to be a good father.” He looked up at Jack and grinned wickedly. “Not when I can be a good wife.” Jack grinned in return and unspeaking, the pair turned and left the gravetree behind. When the sun rose over Orin, they’d break apart one final time. But for now, they had each other. And that was enough.


End file.
